Fractured Fairytale
by gone-phishing
Summary: "I love y-" "Rukia! I have something more important to tell you! Inoue asked me out!" Just like that, he managed to brush off her confession. Just like that, she learned that Fairytales are not always meant to be. IchiRuki, 3 shot.
1. Unrequited

**Author's Note: This is probably the most depressing piece I've written. **

**This is going to be a two or three-shot, and next chapter we'll get a look into Ichigo's POV. **

**Just to clarify, this is not Ichihime. Not in the slightest. I haven't finished it yet, but when I post the other parts you'll see what I mean.**

**Please read and tell me what you think in a review.**

**Argh! Sorry for reuploading, but I forgot the Disclaimer! I do not own Bleach in any way shape or form.**

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><p><em>"We must never shed tears. That is living form of defeat and if we give in to the emotions then it only becomes proof of our inability to control it."<em>

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><p>Kuchiki Rukia glared wordlessly at the empty glass in her hands, as the loud music and mindless chatter of the bar filled the atmosphere. Her usual bright eyes had dulled, to an almost inhuman violet, and they glazed over as the alcohol she had just consumed coursed its way around its body.<p>

A barmaid soon noticed the empty glass she clutched, and quickly tottered over to her side to refill her drink. She threw her head back once more, and took a large swig of the burning liquid from her glass, as it crawled its way down her throat.

She discovered three things at that moment.

Firstly, was that she was a lightweight. She had barely consumed 3 glasses of sake, as her vision began to blur slightly, and a pleasant haze descended on her senses.

Second, was that alcohol made her angry. Very angry. No longer did she feel like crawling into a ball and crying herself to sleep, instead, she felt like beating the closest living thing to a bloody pulp, so she could release the past 7 months of frustration, anger, sorrow and general pain on something other than herself. The fire that had burned more dimly every day for the past few months, had ignited like a furnace, as if someone had added a gallon of oil to the raging flames.

The third thing she discovered was that she needed more sake, and she needed it now. Because behind the maelstrom that were her emotions, behind the burning anger and the icy indifference, there was an underlying hurt that she just couldn't quash. She blinked her eyes open – when had she closed them? - to find her glass once more, filled to the brim as the bar maid offered a sympathetic smile.

Grasping the glass desperately once more, she drained its contents in less than a second, in a futile attempt to still the memories on the verge of surfacing. Unfortunately for her, the alcohol stunted her concentration, so her efforts in blocking the memories from floating to the surface of her mind were in vain. She soon found herself consumed by them, and was reluctantly remembering the damn cause of all this….That god awful day 7 months ago, that changed the rest of her life irreversibly.

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><p><em>7 Months ago- 2 days after the Winter War.<em>

_She found herself smiling as he walked into the classroom for no apparent reason. Well, actually, there was a reason, but she was just reluctant to face it, or even acknowledge its presence. Her eyes found trailed their way back to his form, as he moved skillfully between the desks, until he reached a stop, right in front of hers. Rukia looked up at him with a curious gaze, silently asking him what he needed. To her amazement, his eyebrows were un-furrowed and there was even a hint of a smile curling on his lips. What was happening? That expression made no sense to the shinigami currently sitting in the classroom. She was absolutely dumbfounded. Was he…smiling? If so, why did it look so….wrong? _

"_Ichigo." She acknowledged, with a raised eyebrow, silently asking him what exactly he needed, as he still stood tall in front of her desk. To her surprise, he bent down to her level, before whispering in her ear in a husky voice that sent chills down her spine._

"_Can I meet you on the roof for a moment?" _

_It was a simple request, as Rukia found herself almost smiling. Almost. She nodded briefly in acceptance, before standing and following the orange haired teen out of the room, paying no attention to the others watching her. If she had been, she would have noticed a certain auburn haired girl's smile exactly mirror the boy she was following. _

_The whole walk to the rooftop was silent. Not awkward, or uncomfortable in any way, just simply silent. The twosome soon reached their destination, as he pulled open the door, holding it open for her courteously, as he allowed her to walk past. She simply raised an eyebrow at his actions, while on the inside she was utterly confused. When had he, the brash, stubborn, often hotheaded teen gained manners? Especially towards her? _

_She dismissed it, a little too easily as she made her way over to where he was currently standing, leaning over the balcony as warm rays of sunlight gently caressed his cheek, giving him a kind of ethereal glow._

_It was in that moment, when the desire to simply tell him, everything, grew too much for the petite woman standing behind. She could no longer just shy away from the feelings growing within her, the pure concern she felt when he was injured, the fulfillment in her heart when he simply walked through the door, proving that he was alight. She had to tell him. Now._

"I-" _I what? I care about you more than I'm willing to admit? I can't stand it when I can't feel your reitsu close by? I catch myself staring at you a little to long, and find it difficult to remember when you grew from that awkward teenage boy I that gave a portion of my soul to? I find myself thinking about you when you're not right beside me?_

_She couldn't help but pause, an unfamiliar fear seeping into her heart. What was this feeling? It felt oddly like fear, but only worse, as she struggled to find the right words to express the depth of her emotion for the boy in front of her. Suddenly, it was as if a flashlight was shined in the dark, pinpointing exactly what she was feeling. One simple word, that described everything that she felt for the person in front of her. It would absolutely change their relationship, and yet, she found herself not caring nearly as much as she should. She opened her mouth as the words came rushing out in a breathless whisper, as he suddenly whipped around to face her._

"_I love yo-"_

"_Rukia, I have to tell you something before you tell me alright?" He interrupted, the same smile still adorning his lips as she had observed earlier in the classroom. She froze up the moment he had interrupted, sure that she wouldn't have the courage to tell him again. Maybe in time, but not at that moment._

"_S-sure.." She stuttered hastily in response, covering up the horrible sinking feeling in her gut._

"_Inoue asked me out!" He claimed, his grin spreading even further across his face. Something inside of her died at that moment. For some reason, she was internally begging that he would then say he rejected their buxom friend, as he had finally realized his feelings for the girl before him. But she knew that wasn't the case. She could tell by the smile he wore that still felt so wrong, and the glassy glint in his eye what his answer had been, even before he made any further comment on the subject._

"_A-ah… really?" she choked out, her voice suddenly hoarse as if she had just run a marathon as a burning sensation settled behind her eyelids. She knew what it was, but refused to let a single tear fall._

"_Yeah! I never knew she liked me like that! I agreed, so now we're officially boy friend and girl friend!" he responded, his words so pronounced, so clear…so happy, that each felt like a slap in the face. There was a visible red blush creeping along his cheeks, as she bit in inside of hers as well as clenched her hands into fists in an attempt to control the writhing emotions just below the surface._

"_G-great.. I-I'm happy for you." She managed to splutter in response, her voice cracking multiple times as she tried desperately to hold her mask of happiness in place. Not for her sake, but for his. _

_Another smile crept along his face, as his eyes seemed to shine brighter than she ever thought possible in the sunlight. Inside her chest, it felt like an iron hand had reached inside, grabbed hold of her beating heart, and began to twist mercilessly._

"_Awesome, now I just have to tell the others." His voice was louder now, more confident as he gazed down on her form._

"_Y-yeah.." she whispered, the volume of her voice dropping dramatically so it could barely be heard over the soft whistle of the wind. The burning sensation behind her eyes was quickly becoming too much. She had to escape. She had to escape now, before her mask shattered and she broke down completely. She turned from him swiftly, walking towards the steel door of the roof as quickly as she could without looking like she was trying to escape._

"_Oh, wait, Rukia!" his voice rang out loudly, acquiring a thoughtful quality as if he had just remembered something important. Said girl froze in her steps, craning her neck around to face him once more…..dammit, she was only two steps away from the door._

"_Yeah, what is it." She replied, her tone flat as it no longer held the fake happiness it did 5 seconds ago, because even that was too much for her to take._

"_What is it you wanted to tell me?" He asked curiously, making his way towards her, his own eyebrows raised in curiosity this time. _

_She slapped on yet another fake grin, and stood as strong as she could as she attempted to wave it off._

"_Ah.. Nothing." She replied, shaking her head slightly as she felt the wind rush past her was he walked towards the exit. Not once did he turn around, nor did he seem to notice the fake-ass smile that had enveloped her lips a mere second earlier. Once upon a time.. he might have. But not now. Never again._

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><p><em>We must never shed tears. That is living form of defeat and if we give in to the emotions then it only becomes proof of our inability to control it.<em>

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><p><em>She felt two tears slowly trek their way down her cheek, conjoining once more at the base of her chin. She didn't wail like a infant, nor did she let a single sob escape her lips. But try as she might, the tears refused to stop falling.<em>

_Somewhere along the line, the sun had stopped shining as the storm came thundering in._

'Ni-sama would be disappointed with me', _is the only thought the broken soul left alone on the rooftop could process, without running the risk of falling apart more than she already had._

_And the rain came pouring down._

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><p>Cringing from the memory, she hastily downed yet another glass of the sake. Her brain was fuzzy, the room was a blur and she could barely feel any reitsu.<p>

The previous anger that had flooded her veins had dissipated, leaving despair in its wake. To be perfectly honest, she preferred the blinding fury, to the overwhelming hopelessness, currently crushing the remainder of her hope to pieces, by replaying the day; start to finish, over and over again.

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><p><em>8 hours ago<em>

"_Rukia-chan, just tell him how you feel." The eldest Kurosaki persisted, his hands currently latched onto his third daughter's shoulders in an attempt to shake some sense into her, both literally and figuratively._

"_I- I can't do that to him Isshin-san." She stuttered softy in response, still not used to his forcefulness when it came to matters like this. She had been living in the Kurosaki household, (with their knowledge) for almost a year in total, and almost felt like a real part of their family. The key word there was almost. _

_This had to have been at least the 10__th__ time the head of the household had tried to convince her to confess her feelings to his son. She stopped denying her feelings after the second attempt, seeing as all the members of the family could see her feelings a clear as day, no matter how much they tried to hide them…well, all accept the now smiling carrot top. _

_They had grown apart in the past months, to a point the words acquaintances described their relationship much more accurately than friends. Whenever they talked, Inoue was always hanging on the end of his arm, as the seemed to travel as a duo these days. It wasn't Ichigo, and Inoue. It was Ichigo and Inoue. _

_There was no more me, or I, just us and we. _

_The petit shinigami hadn't talked to the orange haired teen alone since that fateful day on the roof, and after a month, she simply stopped trying._

_So, the current distance in their relationship had somehow prompted the elder Kurosaki to convince her to actually confess her feelings, so he could have '26 grandbabies'. _

_So far, none a single attempt had succeeded, though almost every one came close._

"_I thought I told you to call me papa? And why not? How do you know he doesn't feel the same?" He whined childishly, his lips set in a pout as he crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. She couldn't help but sigh in response. Did he know that she had been asking herself his last question, over and over again in her head?_

"_I…I can see how happy his is with her… I have no right to take that away from him." She muttered, her eyes darkening as a dejected frown spread across her face. It was true. She resolutely refused to be selfish. Not that Ichigo was finally happy…he deserved that, in the least._

"_But what about you?" Isshin asked, his eyebrows furrowing in serious concern. Rukia was dumbfounded, not understanding what he was getting at._

"_Huh?" _

"_He may look happy, but what about you? You deserve to be happy as well. I'm not going to guarantee that he will accept your feelings, but keeping them all to yourself…. I can see its killing you." He stated, earlier playfulness disappearing from his tone, as it dropped in volume to barely a whisper. _

"_I.. I don't want to ruin this happiness he has finally found… I just can't do that to him" She replied, her eyes screwed shut in an attempt to make the man before stop making so much sense. Because if he kept this up, he may actually convince her to do what she had buried so far in her subconscious, ever since that day he brushed off her confession on the rooftop._

"_Just tell him Rukia-chan. For a piece of mind. If he accepts, then you will finally have a chance at being happy, and if he can't? It will hurt, but at least you got it off your chest, and then __you__ will be able to move on with a clear conscience." He explained, his eyes clearly displaying his level of concern for the shinigami he had come to love like a daughter. He honestly cared for her happiness. He really did. She needed this. Even if she would never admit it, or show it openly, what had been happing for the past few months was literally killing the poor girl from the inside out._

"_..t-thank you…" she replied, her head hung low as his words echoed throughout her mind. 'then you will be able to move on'…. It made sense. It made so much sense that she felt like an idiot for not seeing it that way sooner. Maybe if he told her how he really felt, if he actually opened up to her for once, she would be able to let go._

"_No problem. Now go get that idiot son of mine" He chuckled, patting her on the back solidly, as she nodded hurriedly, before sprinting out of the house._

_She followed his reitsu like as if it were her lifeline, running carelessly across the streets in order to get there was fast as possible. _

_She arrived in a part of Karakura that she had never seen before, but soon ignored it as she continued to follow the trail of his reitsu. She soon found herself standing on the outside of what appeared to be a high class restaurant. She briefly wondered what he was doing there, but was distracted by the sound of thunder in the distance as storm clouds began to roll in. _

_She turned her attention back to the window, in a attempt to spot the bright haired-boy. And spot him she did. The image she saw next was burned so deeply into her mind, that even after her fourth glass of sake, it would not dissipate. His orange hair was as unruly as ever- it looked like he hadn't brushed it in before coming - was all dressed up, wearing a casual black tuxedo, as well as a red and black striped tie. But that wasn't the part that killed her. It was the fact that he was on one knee, in front of his girlfriend, holding up what looked to be a wedding ring. She didn't need to hear any words to know what was going on._

"_Inoue…will you, marry me?"_

_It was too much for the shinigami to take. She screwed her eyes shut, turned around, and simply ran. She didn't even bother to wait for a response. She just had to get away._

_Away from him. _

_Away from __**her**__._

_Away from them._

_Away from everything, as the storm came thundering in._

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><p>Maybe that's why she sat in the middle of a random bar at two in the morning.<p>

Maybe that's why she was on her 10th glass of sake, no longer caring about the world around her.

Maybe that's why when the hollow alert sounded from her Soul Pager, even though she could barely stand upright, and her head was pounding and hands shaking, that she stumbled off into the night without a second thought.

And the rain came pouring down.

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><p>Somewhere across town, a certain orange-haired boy pondered briefly over why something felt horribly, horribly wrong.<p> 


	2. Saving You

**Author's Note: Next chapter will be the epilogue.**

**Argh, Okay, sorry but I just had to put this in. I know my writing isn't amazing, and my grammar and spelling needs work, and I know I'm not amazing so you don't have to tell me that. I'm fine with constructive criticism but people PM'ing me just to tell me how horrible my story is? That is a little far T.T**

**And don't hate me for this, as this chapter doesn't have a cliché** **happy ending, but the real ending next chapter is not so bad, so bare with me.**

**As always, please read and review and tell me what you think ^-^**

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><p>From the time he had spent in total, slaughtering blood-thirsty hollows, to the time he watched the birth of his son and daughters, to the time he had watched his one true die because of his inability to protect her, Isshin Kurosaki assumed he had 'felt' almost every human emotion. All but one still managed to elude him.<p>

Fear.

Sure, he had been concerned, distraught and even heartbroken when his wife passed away, but he had never been outright scared. Fear was one emotion he always presumed he was immune to. Until now.

He had willingly, sent his third daughter out, god-knows where, to find his punk of a son, so that maybe, just maybe they could have the happy ending that they damn well deserved.

That had been over 4 hours ago. 2 since he last felt her reitsu flicker.

He was downright terrified.

There were so many things that could have gone wrong. So many reasons why he should go find her. And yet, he couldn't. It wasn't his duty, but his son's. **He** was the only one who could help her. He always managed to, didn't he? So why did it feel so…_different_ this time? Why was there a gut-wrenching feeling tugging at his heart? Why…why was he so scared?

Another loud crash of thunder as white lightning illuminating the kitchen brought the eldest Kurosaki out of his stupor. He rubbed at his eyes drowsily, blinking at the flashing red numbers of the clock to his right. 2:32am. It had been pouring outside for over 20 minutes now. He sighed heavily, simply exhausted as he rubbed his temples. The rain never failed to do this to him. Too many gruesome memories and traumatizing sights to be simply washed clean by the frigid downpour.

Yet another realization made the doctor slump even further in his seat, out of a combination of anxiety, worry and _fear._

Ichigo wasn't home either.

Neither was Rukia.

What had happened?

He could _see_ the looks the youngest Kurosaki male threw his third daughter all throughout the winter war, and he could _see_ it reflected equally in her liquid pools of bright amethyst. There came the million dollar question. What had _changed?_ Not once did his son ever seem to pay any extra attention to his buxom- auburn haired friend any more than Ishida or Chad for that matter. So what the hell happened?

Unfortunately, all his attempts at subtly interrogating his third daughter for answers were not as unsuccessful as they were disheartening. He quickly came to the conclusion that _she_ didn't know either. It was heartbreaking really, especially to one who considered himself the father to both the children in question. To watch _her_ gaze at him a little too long, with those devastatingly sad eyes, while _he_ took no notice and continued talking with his girlfriend. Though the whole 'girlfriend' concept would seem like the cause of the distress to both parties involved, Isshin could see a faint crack in his son's outward exterior. He wasn't sure _what_ he was seeing, but he just knew that _something _had happened. Happened _before_ he accepted Inoue as his girlfriend.

Something had _changed_ on the last day of the Winter war. He had no idea what. And neither did _she._ That was probably the most tragic part.

Harsh slapping sounds of expensive shoes cracking against concrete echoed in the small room, as the owner shuffled awkwardly, stumbling and fumbling with the lock of the front door.

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><p>And the rain continued to pour.<p>

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><p>It was stupid really. Really, really stupid. It was his engagement party! And here he was, stumbling home awkwardly at 2 in the freakin' morning. Why did he drink so much anyway? His memory grew fuzzy after the high-pitched squeal of 'YES' from Inou-.. No, he shouldn't call her that should he? She was his girlfriend now, and had been for eight months. He almost choked on air when he realized that after tonight, he would either call her Kurosaki-san, or Orihime. His blurry mind briefly wondered why Kurosaki Orihime sounded so….wrong. Not meaning any disrespect to Ino- his girlfri- his freakin' <strong>wife<strong> to be, but it just sounded so out of place. Like there was something that was missing.

He sighed once more, trekking towards the front door of the clinic; the rain has already throughout drenched his clothes, so the soaking fabric clung to his body, leaving him shivering almost violently underneath. Kurosaki Ichigo sounded right. Kurosaki Ruk- Shut the fuck up brain! He mentally screamed at himself, the alcohol allowing thoughts of _her_ to progress further than they had since the winter war. That was dangerous territory, and he refused for his thoughts to be consumed by her, even in his alcohol induced stupor. Inside of his head, an amused voice snickered cruelly, as it remarked that denial was the first step towards acceptance.

Why the hell did he drink again? Oh yeah, that's right. He had stayed sober all night, not touching a drop of alcohol, but as 2am rolled around, Ino- his girlfriend had practically shoved it down his throat. Well, not literally, but it was…rare to see a usually placid, calm Inoue seem so…forceful and frantic. He didn't count on that after the first glass, every time she offered him another, his will to decline eroded away.

Little did he know, that as the alcohol spread throughout his system, allowing him only to focus of the bright lights and bodies grinding together on the dance floor, he failed to feel a distant, achingly familiar reitsu fluxuate wildly on the other side of the town.

As if it needed help. As if it was struggling. As if it was _dying._

He was a goner after the first glass. After that, he continued to down anything, anyone offered him, savoring the taste of the diverse flavors he found himself sampling. But most of all, he savored the pleasant haze that dulled his senses, his thoughts, and most of all, his feelings.

He almost yelled when deafening clap of the thunder, reverberated throughout the empty neighborhood, as a bolt of lightning stuck and the empty streets were briefly illuminated in pale light, before dimming once more pitch black. Ichigo fumbled with his keys, his fingers numb from the freezing rain, combined with the effects of the alcohol, making the once simply task of putting the key in the lock and turning it, much more complicated.

Once he managed to slide the key in the lock (on the 4th attempt because of the severity of his shaking limbs) he maneuvered the keys so he twisted them with his palm, not the tips of his fingers that were shaking too badly to hold still long enough to turn the damn lock. As he heard it click, the door swung open to reveal none other than his father, sending a frightful glare his way.

He could tell a half, dazed, half amused grin was sitting on his lips, thanks to the amount he had to drink. To his utter surprise and bewilderment, his father's eyes dropped down to his left hand, when a simple golden ring adorned his ring-finger, before his eyes practically light up in excitement….what? Wasn't there meant to be a lecture about him getting home at 2 in the morning, piss drunk, with an engagement ring? Surely normal father's would be yelling their heads off by now! Oh wait, he remembered his own father is not the perfect description of 'normal'.

"I can't believe everything worked out. I was so worried.." he appeared to sigh in relief, Ichigo supposed more to himself that to anyone else. But the combination of his relaxed brow, exhausted posture and forehead smoothed of any type of wrinkles was just too much to not ask. It was the first time since the end of the winter war his father looked…at peace, and it was because he came home at two in the morning, drunk, and engaged? The hell?

"W-what do you mean?" The orange haired teen spluttered slightly in response, his voice hoarse from lack of use as well as his sentence stuttering slightly, still trying to appear slightly sober.

"By the way, where is she- your bride to be?" The eldest Kurosaki questioned, with a strange mix of perverseness and pride glinting in his eyes, the younger was left dumbfounded, not only by that, but his father's question itself. He hadn't been particularly….welcoming, to Inoue. Not that he was cold or rude or anything, it was more the fact that he was…polite, not running at her in an attempt to tackle in the form of a hug / punch to the face, like he did to the rest of the family. He treated her with respect, and like the lady that she was, not attempting to peek under her skirt like he did with the twins and his self proclaimed 'third daughter'.

"She went home to her apartment…" Ichigo replied with an eyebrow raised, as he almost forgot to reply to his father's question.

"She bought an apartment?" He almost screamed, eyes wide, arms flailing about the place with a flabbergasted look crossing his face.

"Yeah, she's owned one for as long as I can remember." The orange haired teen replied, increasingly curious at where his father thought Inou- his fiancé lived.

"Really? My third daughter never told me anything about owning an apartment" The eldest proclaimed loudly, puffing out his chest while his voice rose at least ten decibels. Of course, this was all irrelevant to Ichigo, as he was still put off by his father's words. Since when had he started calling Inoue his 'third daughter'? Didn't that spot belong to…

"I didn't think you two had ever had a real conversation?" Ichigo replied, as a half statement, half question. Truthfully, he wasn't even sure if the two had ever talked face to face before. Where was all this coming from?

"Of course we have my son!" He bellowed, grinning widely while getting ready to pounce on the younger. " We've talked about everything from how you two are going to deal with Soul Society, to the birds and bees, to the 28 grandchildren you're going to give me!"

He finished his rant, now directly behind his son, ready to tackle him to the floor.

"What does Soul Society have to do with us, dad?" Ichigo asked, trying- but failing- to ignore the bright red that spread across his face at the mention of grandchildren…wait, did he say 28!

"Well, they definitely wouldn't want to lose her as a squad member. Though she isn't ranked, she's quite an important part of the 13th squad." Isshin concluded, all thoughts of ambushing his son temporarily banished. If Rukia-chan and Ichigo hadn't talked about how their relationship was going to work, then he would have to explain some key things they needed to know, especially with Soul Society's involvement.

"Inoue joined the 13th squad?" Ichigo practically yelled, as his jaw fell to the ground. Ichigo watched in fascination as all the color appeared to drain out of his father's face. The eldest's eyes were wide, his mouth also hanging open in a combination of shock and terror.

_Did he just say, Inoue?_

"…I-Inoue?" The eldest croaked, his voice suddenly hoarse and tired. This…this couldn't be right. He was silently begging his son to correct him, telling him he was talking about Rukia-chan…

"Yeah? My girlfriend, turned fiancé, soon to be wife! What about her and the 13th squad?" Ichigo snapped irritably, hopelessly confused about his father's antics, what Inoue was apparently doing in the thirteenth squad, as well as why his father looked like he was a child who just had been told Christmas was not coming.

"Y-you proposed to her tonight?" Isshin whispered, in a voice so quiet it was barely audible over the pouring rain. Ichigo observed how his father's eyes darkened in what looked like…guilt? What did old goat-face have to be guilty about?

"Yeah, of course I did! Who else would I propose to?" Ichigo replied, his voice sarcastic and cold.

"Oh god no…..Rukia!" The eldest whispered brokenly, guilt, shame and terror reflected off his dark, murky eyes. Just what the hell was going on? And what did it have to do with _her…_

"R-rukia? What the hell does she have to do with-" Ichigo choked, even saying her name after all this time… it was difficult.

"Ichigo! Please tell me you've seen her?"His father stood, grabbing the edge of his collar, bringing him to eyelevel, so younger could clearly see the pure desperation painted in every one of his father's movements.

"No, not today at all. I was busy getting ready to propose, remember?" He tried to bite back a sarcastic retort- anything to quash the horrible feeling in his gut when he said her name- anything to cover the horrible, high-pitched laughter that rang in the back of his mind.

"D-did you at least feel her reitsu?" His father questioned, eyes blazing as Ichigo slithered out of the death-hold he had on his shirt.

"I, thought I did for a split second, why?" Ichigo answered honestly, recalling the split moment he was on his knees, proposing to the girl he… he was meant to love. This was too much. Ichigo didn't want to talk about _her_… He wanted to escape.

"Shit…. She's probably out doing something stupid… you have to go find her- I-Ichigo, where are you going?" His father roared after him, as he began to trudge up the stairs, back turned, face expressionless.

"I'm going to bed, it's late!" he called over the clattering of pots as they fell to the floor, as his father desperately tried to reach him.

He had reached the 15 sign on his door, as he attempted to ignore his father's obnoxious yelling. He ripped open the door, the 15 sign almost flying off the nail, as he prepared to slam it shut when the sentence he had been dreading the most reached his ears.

"Her LIFE is in danger!"

In two seconds flat, he was out of his shivering body, and soaking clothes, instead dressed in the black robes of a shinigami. It took him another 5 seconds to jump out of the window, searching desperately for her reitsu like it was his lifeline.

_Bring her home Ichigo. Please._

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><p>And the rain continued to pour.<p>

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><p>Kurosaki Ichigo was trembling. Not because of the insane speed he used in Flash-step, easily capable of topping the Goddess of Flash-Step herself. Not because the rain had now soaked through all his robes, leaving them clinging to his icy skin, chilling him to the bone.<p>

No it was the horrific scene before him that left the man who single-handedly brought down Aizen, trembling in his boots. It looked… it looked like a fucking massacre. The whole street was painted with crimson, small shards of bone were scattered across the pavement. Because of the rain's constant pounding on the stains, it looked like a literal bloodbath.

Sure, it smelt putrid and looked absolutely sickening, but the orange haired teen's attention was focus solely on the bundle of black robes in the centre of the street.

Denial rang through his head, blocking out any sane thought. That couldn't be _her_. She was safe! He made sure she was safe! The raven hair, matted with blood that splayed out on the concrete, didn't belong to.. It had to be a dream! It was a fucking dream! He would just open his eyes, and everything would be fine…because right now she… she is.. sh-

_She's dead._

As that horrible high-pitched dragged him out of his fantasy, he was forced to swallow that the person, lying before him, gutted like a fish, was…was the one he wante- no needed to protect.

The realization struck him hard, as he immediately sprinted towards her figure, ignoring the sharp pain the movement caused.

"R-RUKIA! What the fuck have you done to yourself?" He practically screamed, dropping to his knees, while attempting to gather her small, small body into his arms. Was she always this tiny?...this fragile?

Forcing the bile that began to crawl up his throat back down at the sight of her shredded stomach, he carefully placed his hand over her neck, desperate to feel her pulse. He tried hopelessly to ignore the sight of her stomach, once pale and unmarked, now torn open as he tried to cover and pull it together using her shinigami robes. After almost 10 seconds for absolutely no movement from the person he was cradling in his arms, as the adrenalin that pumped his body only moments beforehand drained leaving an overwhelming despair in its wake, he felt it. Her heart thumped weakly. Only once. But it was enough.

Cradling her body carefully, he began to slowly lift the rest of her into his lap, ignoring how her blood was seeping through his robes. He watched, holding her tighter as her eyes slowly swung open, her face immediately twisting into a pained grimace. Slowly, but surely, the grimace fell away leaving bitter acceptance, before to his utter surprise, a ghost of a smile twisted on her lips.

"Psh- I- I killed the hollow- at least." She gloated- well at least tried to. Her breath was heavy, as she needed to pause more than once, to simply get a sentence out. Her eyes felt heavy again, as they began to droop. Was this what dying felt like? She wondered, as she heard what sounded like a choking sound come from above her.

"Come on now, we'll get you to Inoue, you'll be fine!" Ichigo tried to gain her attention, speaking reassuringly into her ear, while still trying to gather the rest of her body so he could at least carry her. He honestly wasn't sure who he was trying to convince. Was he reassuring her, or himself?

Rukia smiled weakly, somehow managing to drag her hand to the front of his robes, tugging softly on the soaked fabric to get his attention. She already knew she wasn't going to survive this. Even so…she had to get it off her chest. Better late than never, right?

"Ichigo… I just wanted to say one last thi-"

"SHUT UP!" He roared in desperation, stubbornly refusing to comprehend the meaning behind her words. Because if he did, if he listened to her final words, then she would…she would- " You're going to be fine! You are….you… you have to be." He chanted despairingly, to the both of them, wishing, hoping, praying that it would be true.

"Thanks to you, I can leave my heart here.." She rasped, her grip slackening as her beautiful violet eyes began haze over.

"Idiot…shut up. Just shut up. You're not going to die. Because I…because I"

The grip she held on his robes weakened, until it fell away as her eyelids began to slip closed.

"I LOVE YOU!"

Her eyes sprung open, wide, surprised, fearful violet irises staring right back into his own smoldering amber orbs. His- full of sacrifice and guilt, hers- clouded with pain and confusion.

"I always did… I was just a coward. I was scared- scared of admitting how I felt.. I finally had the courage to, then…" he swallowed as guilt and self loathing filled his body.

"Then my hollow…he- he admitted what **he **wanted with you…to _do_ to you..

I was terrified that I -the one who was meant to protect you, would..would hurt you….so I… so I tried to stop feeling that way. I tried to use Inoue to get over you…to forget you…to protect you- even from myself. That day on the roof… it killed me to know what I did, and the worst part was, I still managed to hurt you..." his voice cracked near the end, filled with raw emotion, pain and sacrifice. Everything he did was for her…to protect her, and he still managed to fuck it up.

"I- I'm so sorry…" He confessed, unable to stop the tear that rolled down his cheek.

"I-idiot. N-not once during that time did I stop loving you, you can't get rid of me that easily..fool." she rasped in response, her breaths growing weaker by the second. At her admission, he only held her tighter in an attempt to stop stubborn tears that refused to stop spilling from his eyes.

" Don't forget me, Ichigo…" she whispered weakly, finding it more difficult by the second to force out words. His neck snapped up at the realization of what she was really saying. She was dying….and there was nothing he could do about it.

"N-no! Don't you DARE die! You hear me? STOP IT" He pleaded with her, urgently, his voice containing a level of desperation that she had never heard before.

"Death isn't the end…. I promise, we'll meet again."

Her once bright amethyst eyes, were now dull grey as her eyelids began to slip closed.

"No! DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES! Stop!"

"Say-"

"Don't say it!.. Don't you dare say it!"

"Sayonara…."

"RUKIA!"

* * *

><p>And the rain continued to pour.<p> 


	3. Oblitus

**Author's Note; this is the third and final installment of this little three shot I wrote. I'm writing this because someone pointed out the age does not match, and because it was anonymous I could not directly reply to them. Basically, I did that on purpose, and I would have explained it, had I been planning to continue the story. I suppose for simplicity's sake, I should just change the age, but I just wanted to say, that yes, I did it on purpose. **

**Please enjoy!**

It's dark. Darker than black. She cannot see, nor hear, nor feel. Emotions float by, just out of reach. Memories slowly fill her mind. She remembers everything. Ichigo. The hollow fight. His confession. _It's weird_ she muses _to remember, but to not feel the emotions the memories should bring_. Maybe it's the darkness? She doesn't know. She feels like closing her eyes. Is this what dying feels like? There is no mystical bright light, growing every closer. There is only darkness.

She had never really pondered over the idea of 'What really happens when you die?'. Too busy, with school, with homework, and hollows and her own feelings was she, to even ponder over what it really meant. Sure, humans turned to spirits and then were sent to Soul Society, or slowly deteriorated into hollows, which kind of destroys the notion of 'rest in peace'. But what happens to shinigami? Will her corpse just rot in the ground? Will she dissolve into spirit particles, their only purpose to be absorbed if one like Ishida may feel the need to use a power-up? Was her existence really that expandable? Would she just disappear? Actually, she thinks that would be nice.

She doesn't like the darkness. Every second that passes by, feels like there is something being stolen from her. She can't put a finger on what it may be, or might mean, but something deep within her resists it. She doesn't think she can stand an eternity in here.

Ni-sama would be disappointed with her impatience. She tries to picture her stoic elder brother, but it as if a metal block as implanted itself into her mind. What colour are his eyes again? No matter how hard she tries, the answer eludes her. What was his name again? It started with a K. K- k-... ku. She cannot find the answer. Slowly, even the letter K escapes her mind.

So this is the price? Every time she attempts to grasp a memory, it slithers just out of reach. Why was she here again? The colour orange remains. In the inky blackness, it is as if she can faintly see the colour orange swirling around in the depths. What is it about orange?

She sees a face, but at the same time she can't really _see_ who's it is. They call out, but the words are muffled. The face bleeds orange too.

If forgetting is really the final death, then she may not have much longer. She tries to reach out to the figure. She doesn't want to disappear. Words such as 'help! 'float around her mind, but it is like her body has forgotten how to produce sound. Only a quiet whimper escapes her lips.

She realizes that the pressure and haze on her mind and body, is the weight of her sins. It is a sin to love taken man. It is a sin to love a dead man. It is a sin to take life.

Everything she is, begins to disappear. She decides that this is her punishment, atonement for her sins, if you will.

And so, hell descended upon her.

* * *

><p>A figure strides across roads, and along footpaths at fast pace. The sounds of traffic, horns beeping and people yelling fills the air. Not a single bird can be heard. The man is tall, towering at a massive 6 ft 5. His orange locks frame his permanently creased eyebrows, and fierce scowl. he is wearing a suit, not uncommon for the city in which he lives. His eyes are a chocolate brown, so intense that only a blind man could not back down from eye contact. They were covered by a small pair of reading glass, which the owner of said features continues to scrub furiously.<p>

_I'm late_. Is the only thought that really runs through his mind. He hates the first day of school each year. Yes, school. Kurosaki Ichigo taught in a high-school.

One who may have known him, or even heard his name through whispers and rumours would ask if it was even the same person. If they had asked him, he would have replied that he was not.

Once upon a time, he aspired to be a doctor, which conspired with his want- no need to save lives. Once upon a time, he was famous for his abilities among the shinigami world, respected by almost all who had heard his name. Once upon a time, he would see the blood of a hollow, or patient, and not immediately have horrible, horrible memories from his past flash before his eyes.

At first they told him he simply had a weak stomach. 'Post traumatic stress disorder' was its formal name. He was physically unable to even glance at blood, and the very thought made his stomach churn violently.

At first, he honestly believed he could simply 'get over' it, so that he could at least achieve his lifelong dream of becoming a doctor after his dad. What a foolish dream. Not even therapy helped in the slightest, and if he may say so himself, he honestly thinks it has made things worse.

So here he was, 32 for and a high school teacher. It wasn't the best job, but it was safe. And it was a distraction.

He no longer lived in Karakura, and had moved away from it all a long time ago. His friends wanted to follow him, because they were worried (they had all rights to be), but he had told them no. They needed to live their own lives to the fullest. Each accepted in their own way - Ishida a roll of the eyes, Chad, a pat on the back, Tatsuki a punch in the face, Keigo tears, and Mizuro a handshake. He wasn't strong enough to approach Inoue after what had happened. He called the engagement off, the night after he proposed. It was an asshole thing to do yes, and he has always felt guilty ever since making the decision, but he can't look at her after what had happened. And she deserved more than that. She really did.

As he reaches the classroom, all chatter immediately ceases. Kurosaki-sensei has a reputation for taking absolutely no shit with his students. Even though it was a new year, every student in the classroom had least encountered him or heard of him once, and knew not to rub him the wrong way.

He reads names off, one by one and gets the exact same monosyllable response from each student.

It is when he comes to the name "Rukia" that his heart begins to hammer in his chest. He tries desperately to calm it down. This has happened before. More than once. A girl called Rukia has been in his class, and he has made an absolute fool of himself, only to find that is not _her_. It is never _her. _

So when he reads her name aloud, and in return, he hears a low response, with a distinctly feminine ring to it that his ears have not heard in _years_ his eyes widen, and a glimmer reflects of the surface, the likes of which has not been seen in _years_. The glimmer is hope.

He raises his head, and so when his eyes meet the liquid violet that he has missed for _so _long, his heartbeat skyrockets, his breath quickens and the world around them comes to a grinding halt.

"Rukia..."

* * *

><p><em>And the rain stopped.<em>


End file.
